One More Day
by Hidden Relevance
Summary: My answer to my own Mothers Day Challenge. Chris centric: Some days are harder to get through than others.


**Why yes I have another fandom to obsess over… whyever do you ask? **

**Anyway, this is actually an awesome to my own challenge which is soon to be posted over at 7men1destiny on LJ. Basically I wanted to play with some vague Mother's Day musings, and this was the result. I'd love to see what anyone else could come up with for the challenge, so shoot me a PM if you write a Mother's Day fic!**

**As always there's a huge thanks earned by my beta Askita, so give her some love too!**

**...do I really have to do a disclaimer... really? Oh fine. No, no I don't own a damn thing. Though I did just get a house! And and... yeah that's it. No property rights to Mag 7 though, so leave me be already!**

_One More Day_

As first light broke at the edge of town, Chris ventured from the jail with a cup of coffee in one hand and his chair in the other. He set the chair down just outside the door and sank into it with a sigh, the long sleepless night creeping up on him. He shook his head at himself, ignoring the crick in his neck. Buck'd never let him hear the end of it if he found out Chris was aching like he was. Damned if he was gettin' too old to take the midnight watches.

He tossed back another swig of coffee; only half wishing it was whiskey. Ezra'd offered to take last night's watch; God knew the Southerner far preferred staying up to the wee hours of the night to rising for the morning patrol. Chris had been more than a little tempted by the offer, but…

He hadn't wanted to sleep. Didn't want to dream. Chris took another drink, grimacing at the bitter taste and his own thoughts. They'd been better, his dreams. Though he still wore black, the grief and rage of his family's loss was finally starting to ease. Hell, he supposed it was about time; more than 4 years had passed now. Sarah's ghost had likely been awfully tired of him moping about like he had been. She'd rarely had the patience for his darker moods when she'd been alive; Chris supposed he'd taken a bit of advantage of her death and the inherent inability to take him to task.

Hell. He _had_ been doing better, he thought grimly. For the first time in 4 years, he'd actually been sober enough to remember what he'd done on the anniversary of their death. Granted he'd been busy being shot at by another group of sons of bitches attempting to raise hell in his town, but he hadin fact been sober. He hadn't even bothered getting drunk that night: he'd needed a clear head with Buck bleeding out in Nathan's clinic. Buck had recovered, of course; the bastard was too damn stubborn to die. But it had taken a few days to get him up and about, and by then… Well by then, Chris had something else to take care of. Another patrol to ride; another dangerous errand for Judge Travis; another task leading to yet another 'til a month had passed and the pain was just a little more distant.

All in all, he was doing better. Gettin' stronger day by day.

That was only one day out of the year, though, and it wasn't like that was the only hard one. Adam's birthday'd be soon, and Sarah's wasn't too long after that. With a little luck and the grace of God, Chris might make it through the days he used to celebrate almost as well as the day he'd learned to mourn.

He stood and took the few steps to lean against the porch railing, watching as the town slowly began to wake around him.

Chris still had to get through today, though. That was all he needed to think of just yet. Just another damn day.

"Psst! Chris!" Chris blinked and half turned in the direction of the hissed whisper. He'd recognized the voice right away, but why the boy'd be out of bed this early, Chris didn't rightly know. "Chris, over here! Chris!"

The last was almost a whine, and Chris shook his head as he finally pushed away from the post to saunter over to the alley way. Billy Travis was waiting for him, tucked just out of sight of the street and hands clutching a mass of wild flowers and a couple grubby ribbons. The sight of the boy and his burden almost knocked Chris back a step as it forcibly reminded him again of just why he'd dreaded today. He straightened his shoulders by pure stubborn will alone and stepped over to Billy.

"Mornin', buddy. What're you doin' up with the sun?" he asked quietly, not that he needed to. He could see it all too well: an image of his Adam, sneaking into the house with a mess of his mama's flowers ready for breakfast on just such a day.

"I got these for Mama but the ribbons're all tangled up. I can't…" Billy frowned scornfully at the bundle in his hands and then shoved them hopefully toward Chris. "Can you?"

Chris felt a smile quirk his lips, and he nodded Billy over to some crates stacked along the wall. Both of them plopped down, and Chris set about untangling the ribbons and helping the boy carefully wrap and tie them around the mess of stems and leaves. The finished project wasn't half bad in Chris's opinion. The bright colors of the flowers more than made up for a few muddy smudges on the ribbons.

"There. Think it looks awful pretty," Chris said with a grin that Billy matched gleefully.

"Awful pretty!" The boy nodded firmly, and then got up to peek back down the street toward what was likely the saloon. "I gotta go now. Miss Inez is makin' breakfast on a tray. I gotta get it!"

"Go on, then. Don't want to keep your mother waitin'." As if Chris's words were the starting gun, Billy raced off without a backward glance, the flowers clutched before him. Chris smiled slightly and shook his head again. Most likely, the flowers would be even more worse for wear by the time they arrived at Mary's bedside.

Not that she'd care. Chris knew she'd likely exclaim about how pretty and how thoughtful. She'd be sure to act surprised by the whole thing, too, as if she'd really slept through Billy's rather exuberant "sneaking" out of the house at dawn to gather his bouquet. As if she didn't have any idea what day it was until he carried in the tray for her breakfast in bed.

It'd be a real sweet sight, he thought. It certainly would.

At that moment, the loneliness and grief he'd kept at bay all through the night watch threatened to sweep over him and drag him under, and damned if he didn't desperately want a bottle in his hand. He stayed seated right where he was and shook all over, the emotions threatening to rattle him to the core.

Then, he let it go with a long hard sigh and pushed himself to his feet. He'd get some sleep, he decided. Maybe just a couple hours, but enough to get him through the rest of the day.

Then… Then, maybe he'd hunt up Buck, maybe head out to his old spread.

Maybe leave a small bouquet of wildflowers on Sarah's grave. Adam would want him to, he decided. Otherwise it just wouldn't be right.

Chris nodded to himself, finding his footing for the rest of the long day. He figured it'd be a damn shame if his Sarah didn't get flowers on Mother's Day. And that just wouldn't be right.

**Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think, please. It's my first time writing in this fandom so I'm a little nervous!**


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